“I wanted to give it to you.” Mabon spoke quickly, like the words had been physically dragged out of him. “The Daily Bean. I wanted to purchase it and transfer ownership to you so you could…you work so hard here, and you deserve to have something that’s yours, something stable, and I thought if you owned it, then you could make your own hours and focus on your writing and…”
“You wanted to give me a business.” Sam couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “A whole business.”
Mabon seemed to realize, in real time, exactly how that sounded, and his face drained of color.
“Not - I didn’t mean - it was supposed to be an investment opportunity!” He backpedaled so fast he nearly tripped over his own words. “A sound financial decision. You have excellent business acumen, Sam. The way you handle difficult customers, your efficiency, your natural understanding of customer retention strategies - those are valuable skills that translate directly to ownership models and…”
“Mabon.”
“And I merely wanted to help facilitate your potential because you’re clearly underutilized in your current position, not that there’sanything wrong with being a barista, it’s honorable work, but someone with your capabilities could easily manage a small business enterprise, and I thought perhaps if I could just provide the initial capital investment, then you could…”
“Mabon!”
He stopped, breathing hard. Sam studied his face. The genuine distress there, the way Mabon looked like he might actually be sick. Not dangerous or controlling. Just...completely and utterly panicked.
“Oh.” Understanding clicked into place. “You were trying to give me investment advice.”
“I…what?”
“That’s really thoughtful.” Sam’s expression softened. “I mean, it’s way beyond anything I could actually do. I don’t have that kind of money, and I definitely don’t know anything about running a business, but it’s sweet that you thought I could. Thank you for seeing that potential in me.”
Mabon stared at him like Sam had started speaking Mandarin.
“Though maybe next time just, like, mention it over coffee instead of making an actual offer to Mrs. Bellows?” Sam managed a slight smile. “I think you freaked her out a bit.”
“Right.” Mabon’s voice came out strangled. “Yes. Of course. Next time. Coffee. Casual conversation about...investment portfolios.”
“Exactly.” Sam wiped down the section of counter between them. “I should probably get back to work. Maya’s handling the rush by herself.”
There was no rush. The café held exactly three customers.
“Of course. I should…I have a meeting… a conference call… Tokyo markets.” Mabon backed toward the door, still staring at Sam with a panicked expression. “Thank you for the coffee.”
“Anytime.”
Mabon turned and walked straight into the doorframe. He correctedcourse without acknowledging it, pushed through the exit, and disappeared into the rain.
Maya appeared at Sam’s elbow. “What the hell was that about?”
“He tried to give me business advice.” Sam watched Mabon’s tall figure hurry toward a black Range Rover parked across the street. “He’s kind of awkward about it.”
“Awkward.” Maya’s voice dripped skepticism. “That man just walked into a wall.”
“He’s nervous. It’s sweet.”
“Samuel Brown, I swear to god…”
But Sam was already moving to help the next customer.How did he knew that I write in my spare time?The thought was random, but Sam was busy. He’d think about it later.
/~/~/~/~/
Rux
Mabon wrenched open the Range Rover’s door and collapsed into the passenger seat.
“Well?” Rux twisted around from the driver’s seat, red hair escaping its tie. “Did he understand the gesture?”
“Two gestures down.” Mabon’s voice came out hollow. “Sam thinks I was giving him financial advice.”
